25 Things to Live By
by slimwhistler
Summary: A series of letters, beginning with one Josh writes to his unborn son.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine; they are the pawns of Sorkin and Wells.

Rating: PG

A/N: This piece was inspired in part by Chai's excellent fic, Buying Time, as well as the movie _My Life._ I was watching it today (unfortunate mustache, but at least BW plays an actual, you know, human being). Anyway, Michael Keaton's character is dying of cancer, so he makes these videotapes for his as yet unborn son to watch as he is growing up, about different things. It just got me to thinking, what would Josh do in the same situation? There may have been a similar fic to this in GCCA earlier; I can't remember. If so, I'm sorry. This just came to me and I thought I'd write it.

PS: The son's name will be Joshua, of course.

* * *

Dear kiddo,

If you're reading this, you know I was pretty sick, once, so sick that I never got to see you. I'm sorry for that, really I am. But I love you; I have since the moment your mother told me. And I'm so happy to have been your father. I know it's probably going to be hard to grow up without me; it was hard enough losing my dad, and I was nearly forty. So I thought I would write you this list, just some general things to keep in mind. Some of them will hopefully be obvious to you by now, others you may need explained. I know your mom will be happy to, though she might cry at first. She always was a crier. I'm sorry it's not more, buddy, but I'm pretty tired, and I wanted to do this by myself, so you'd have something, from me to you, just between us.

I love you, Joshua.

Dad.

* * *

Cats are bad. Period.

Red meat's got to be burned. It's the only way to go.

The backpack makes the man.

A good pair of sunglasses is a necessary investment. Trust me on this one.

Always buff the bottom of your shoes. Yeah.

Never underestimate the power of a good smirk.

Avoid "winging" anything, especially a press briefing. Just ask CJ.

Any shrink named Stanley's a good bet.

Whatever you do, please, please, don't let your Uncle Sam turn you into a Gilbert and Sullivan freak. Stick with the Doobie Brothers.

Don't mess with your Aunt CJ, 'cause, you know, she'll hurt you.

Don't let Toby scare ya. Underneath the bluster, he's one of the best guys you'll meet. Just don't believe him when he starts talking about the Yankees. We're Mets men.

When President Bartlet starts lecturing, just run. He'll like you. You can probably get away with it.

If your mother ever instates The Rules, do yourself a favor and just do what she says. Life'll be better that way.

If by some cruel twist of fate you inherit my sensitive system, always keep a fresh set of clothes in the office. I ended up in fishing waders, once.

Just in case you wonder, your mother will never, ever, order her own fries. She'll eat yours. I know it's odd, but it's just a thing. It's okay.

So. Girls. First of all, be wary of the brunettes, okay? Although blondes are scary enough, as I'm sure you've discovered by now.

The dimples. I know you hate 'em, but yeah, never grow facial hair. They're your fallback with the ladies. They'll work where all the chocolate and roses in the world won't do a damn thing.

Unexpected gifts. They're much more meaningful than traditional ones. And just between you and me, you'll get luckier. But just do your old man a favor on that one, okay? Wait awhile.

Don't stop for beer, or even red lights, when something's important, cause... just get your mother to explain that one. Someday you'll understand.

Keep your family close.

Don't be afraid to take risks, to trust, when it feels right, about people. That's how I met your mother.

Speaking of your mother, you have my permission to sabotage any dates she has with gomers, or rather jerks you don't like. If you like'em, that's another story, though, 'cause I want you both to be happy.

Voting. Is. Important. If you don't, I'll kick your ass.

Hold out for the real thing. Whatever, whenever. Just do it.

Remember that I love you. Always.


	2. His Father's Son

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine; they are the pawns of Sorkin and Wells.

Rating: PG

A/N: This piece was inspired in part by Chai's excellent fic, Buying Time, as well as the movie _My Life._ I was watching it today (unfortunate mustache, but at least BW plays an actual, you know, human being). Anyway, Michael Keaton's character is dying of cancer, so he makes these videotapes for his as yet unborn son to watch as he is growing up, about different things. It just got me to thinking, what would Josh do in the same situation? There may have been a similar fic to this in GCCA earlier; I can't remember. If so, I'm sorry. This just came to me and I thought I'd write it.

Second in a series of letters beginning with _25 Things to Live By_

For those of you who wanted a happier resolution to this, I will be doing an alternate plot once I get finished with this particular avenue.

This was inspired by the song "He Gets That From Me" by Reba McIntire that Lauren posted about. It just seemed to go along so well in the vein of 25 Things. I highly suggest you watch the video at the link Lauren provided.

Feedback: Always a plus.

* * *

Dear Josh,

Well, I gave JJ your letter, like you asked all those years ago. I can't believe it's his Bar Mitzvah already. Toby took care of everything. It was a beautiful service, and he had such a good time at his party afterwards. Sam and CJ put together a bunch of movie clips of all of us for him, inside the office and out. Your mother sent up your old baseball glove, too. Don't worry, he's a Mets man; it looks like I might have a pitcher on my hands. I kid you not. He has such an intensity when he plays. He gets that from you, of course.

If ever a boy was his father's son, it's JJ. He looks just like you, Josh. The impish, irrepressible grin, the dimples, the hair. And he's got your eyes. He's beautiful. I swear, it's all your mother can do not to cry every time she sees him. They get along so well; he adores her, and she spoils him rotten. He can charm his way into anything. He's not quite as arrogant as you yet, though, thank goodness; heaven help me when he discovers just how smart he really is.

You'd be so proud of him, Josh. He's such a good boy, and he takes such care of me. I don't know what I'd do without him. I know you thought one day I might be sorry, that I had to raise him on my own, that it would hurt too much, but Josh, thank you. He's the best present you ever gave me, a little piece of you.

Oh, Josh.

_Donna_


	3. If You Had Been There

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine; they are the pawns of Sorkin and Wells.

Rating: PG

A/N: This piece was inspired in part by Chai's excellent fic, Buying Time, as well as the movie _My Life._ I was watching it today (unfortunate mustache, but at least BW plays an actual, you know, human being). Anyway, Michael Keaton's character is dying of cancer, so he makes these videotapes for his as yet unborn son to watch as he is growing up, about different things. It just got me to thinking, what would Josh do in the same situation? There may have been a similar fic to this in GCCA earlier; I can't remember. If so, I'm sorry. This just came to me and I thought I'd write it.

Third in a series of letters beginning with _25 Things to Live By_

For those of you who wanted a happier resolution to this, I will be doing an alternate plot once I get finished with this particular avenue.

I'm sending this out unbeta'd, and I'm not sure if it's much good, so let me know!

This was inspired by the song "He Gets That From Me" by Reba McIntire that Lauren posted about. It just seemed to go along so well in the vein of 25 Things. I highly suggest you watch the video at the link Lauren provided.

Feedback: Always a plus.

* * *

Dear Dad,

Thanks for the letter. I miss you, even though we never really met. Everyone was talking about you today, saying what a long time it's been, how much I'm like you, and all. That kind of made me mad, 'cause today was about _me_, you know? I don't say that to be selfish, but it was, and anyways, it kind of made me feel really bad, too, 'cause you weren't there. Uncle Toby is great, though; he takes me to lots of ball games and everything. Uncle Sam gave me a snorkeling trip, for just the two of us, and Aunt CJ said I could come out and stay with her this summer and go to film camp.

That's another thing. I want to make movies. Not Hollywood exactly, but documentaries, maybe. You don't mind, do you? I know you'd probably rather I do something with politics, like you, or baseball, but...Mom says you wouldn't mind, really, as long as I'm happy.

Dad, I'm worried about Mom. She hardly ever goes out with guys, and like you said, I want her to be happy. I think, sometimes, it's my fault, because I'm yours, because I look so much like you. It's like I'm a reminder, or a barrier against her being "disloyal" to you. You wouldn't want her to feel like that, would you, Dad? From the letter, and everything I've heard, you seem like a good guy, like you really loved her. I love her, too; I even let her eat my fries and everything, andfries are the best.

Sorry if you're mad about what I said at the beginning, but it's the truth, and I can be honest with you, right? I wish you'd have been there today. I wouldn't have minded if they talked about you all day, then.

Your son,

_Joshua Josiah_


	4. Blaze New Trails

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine; they are the pawns of Sorkin and Wells.

Rating: PG

A/N: This piece was inspired in part by Chai's excellent fic, Buying Time, as well as the movie _My Life._ I was watching it today (unfortunate mustache, but at least BW plays an actual, you know, human being). Anyway, Michael Keaton's character is dying of cancer, so he makes these videotapes for his as yet unborn son to watch as he is growing up, about different things. It just got me to thinking, what would Josh do in the same situation? There may have been a similar fic to this in GCCA earlier; I can't remember. This just came to me and I thought I'd write it.

Fourth in a series of letters beginning with _25 Things to Live By_

For those of you who wanted a happier resolution to this, I will be doing an alternate plot once I get finished with this particular avenue.

I'm sending this out unbeta'd, so let me know what you think!

This was inspired by the song "He Gets That From Me" by Reba McIntire that Lauren posted about. It just seemed to go along so well in the vein of 25 Things. I highly suggest you watch the video at the link Lauren provided.

Feedback: Always a plus. I have a chem. test tomorrow. Make it all better!

* * *

Dear JJ,

Well. Graduation day, and Berkeley awaits. I find myself wondering what your father would have said to you today. Knowing Josh, something snide, first of all. He loved poking at people. But he also loved people. I have no doubt he would have said something perfect, something that I, for all my rhetoric and sweeping language, could never express as eloquently as he. Josh always spoke from his heart, when things were important; he never needed a script, and his words were the more poignant and fitting for it. You have that quality, too. I know you dislike being compared with your father, which I of all people can certainly understand. But in this area, as well as many others, prize the fact that you come from as fine a man as Joshua Lyman.

It is not my place to speak for your father, or as your father. I couldn't, and will never try to do so. But I am proud to be your godfather, proud to be someone who you look to for guidance. I will always be here.

All I can say, JJ, is blaze new trails. Your own trails. Create your own legacy, and enjoy it.

Good going, kid.

_Toby_

PS: The Mets still suck, though.


	5. The Lyman Flair

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine; they are the pawns of Sorkin and Wells.

Rating: PG

A/N: This piece was inspired in part by Chai's excellent fic, Buying Time, as well as the movie _My Life._ I was watching it today (unfortunate mustache, but at least BW plays an actual, you know, human being). Anyway, Michael Keaton's character is dying of cancer, so he makes these videotapes for his as yet unborn son to watch as he is growing up, about different things. It just got me to thinking, what would Josh do in the same situation? There may have been a similar fic to this in GCCA earlier; I can't remember. This just came to me and I thought I'd write it.

Fifth in a series of letters beginning with _25 Things to Live By_

For those of you who wanted a happier resolution to this, I will be doing an alternate plot once I get finished with this particular avenue.

I'm sending this out unbeta'd, and I'm really really not sure about this one, so let me know what you think, pretty please!

This was inspired by the song "He Gets That From Me" by Reba McIntire that Lauren posted about. It just seemed to go along so well in the vein of 25 Things. I highly suggest you watch the video at the link Lauren provided.

Current Excuse for Feedback: Boy, is this one a doozy! Last night, my scooter and I were stuck on the second floor of our local movie theatre for an hour. I had gone to see a movie in the screening room, and the manager, who left early, either forgot or didn't know that I was there. They turn the elevator off, is the thing. So, no one had a key for either the elevator or the offices, not the projectionist, not security, not maintenance. They finally had to call a manager at home to come. Anyway, so I should score some free stuff out of the experience, and it's actually funny more than anything else, but I have now determined that if I write an autobiography, it shall be entitled _The Scooter Chronicles_ :) Just thought y'all might like to know. All right, go ahead and read, you needn't humor me any longer. ;) Happy Saturday!

* * *

Joshua,

Well, hey there, mi amour. Just thought I'd drop you a note. It's been a while since we talked. A real long while, I should say. JJ came to visit for the weekend, and it got me to thinking, reminiscing, I guess. Anyway, so I stuck in my copy of the movie we made for JJ's Bar Mitzvah, and I just watched, and my heart, well, it just started to ache. I don't know if I ever told you, Josh, but you were like the younger brother I never had. Course, most of the time I just wanted to smack you, but, oddly, that was part of your charm. I don't even mind the headaches you gave me, you and that mouth of yours. This is, of course, said with the benefit of hindsight, so don't you smirk at me. God, Josh, so many times when that smug, ingratiating grin of yours came out I just wanted to hug you. I wish I had done so more often.

So now I hug my godson instead. He and I, we're pals. He crashes at my place on the weekends sometimes, you know, when he wants a break from dorm life and all. Or some therapeutic spoiling. I got him a great pair of sunglasses the other day. What? I'm the cool godmother. And he can carry them off with the Lyman flair, so...

Anyway, he's off surfing now, or was it climbing? I honestly have no idea; he does all of those things. Joshua Lyman, you fathered an outdoorsman. Trust me, no one is more amused at the irony of that than I. Except maybe Donna, of course. But yeah, he's happiest when he's outside, or traveling. His big dream now is to do one of those GlobeTrekker type shows. Just thinking of it, of him, makes me smile. He's unstoppable. Now that, he got from you.

Wow, I kind of rambled on a lot, huh? Well, you know, when I'm emotional I get all...tongue-tied. Or loosened, rather. What I wouldn't give to have to clean up after another "Secret Plan to Fight Inflation" fiasco. Come to think of it, that was rather endearing, at least for its inherent Josh-ness, anyway.

_CJ_.


	6. The Genetics of Drunkenness

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine, unfortunately.

Rating: PG/PG-13

A/N: Hey, guys. I know this one took awhile; sorry, I kind of had writer's block on this. There will be one more in this series, followed by the alternate story. I am sending this out unbeta'd, so let me know of any major issues you have.

Feedback: No super excuses this time around, but always appreciated.

All right, so the editing/break thingy isn't totally working, so bear with me.

So, Josh,

Tell me, since, you're up there, you know, "in the know" and I'm down here: is the whole drunken calling in the middle of the night thing genetic, or something? Not that I mind hauling my inebriated godson out of a bar at three o'clock on the morning, but, well, it's a good thing Ainsley likes him, or she'd make my life unbearable. My woman is just as odd about sleep as she is about food. It's kind of a turn-on…

Back to the issue at hand. Yeah, well, I guess it's not as though he didn't have a reason to get drunk. He just broke up with Kim. I feel for him, and all, but there will be much rejoicing down this end. Yeah, think Mandy _and_ Lisa rolled into one. He doesn't quite have your awful track record with women, but every once in a while he picks a real "doozy of a floozy," if you know what I mean. Not that she was a floozy, per se, but… You know what, I'm just gonna stop now. While I'm ahead. Sort of. Yeah.

He's amusing when he's drunk, JJ is. He got your system, to his chagrin, but he doesn't pass out. He gets loony, and _really _happy. It's quite the sight. Anyway, I left him in the capable hands of one of his roommates, Becca. I think both she and Chris are used to "Drunk JJ," though, because she took one look and went, "Oh, Lord. Come on, Champ." We all like Becca. Especially Donna.

So, tomorrow I shall show up at his apartment bearing coffee, in an unbearably chipper fashion, just like I used to do for you. What's the point of leaving my bed in the middle of the night if I can't get a little fun out of it, right?

I miss you, man.

_Sam_


	7. My Father Taught Me

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine, unfortunately.

Rating: PG/PG-13

A/N: Hey, guys. I know this one took awhile; sorry, I kind of had writer's block on this. I am sending this out unbeta'd, so let me know of any major issues you have.

**MAJOR ANGST ALERT!!!!!!**

**Important**

This last one is a bit different from the others, and since I can't easily format the text here, I'll give you guys a layout of what is going on:

Section 1: Donna's letter to JJ

Section 2: JJ watching the video. The bolded dialogue is taking place in the film, while the explanatory paragraphs explain what JJ is seeing on the screen from his point of view.

Section 3: A scene in Sarah's nursery, meant to be seen from above, from guess who's point of view.

Think of it as a love letter, of sorts.

I was gonna do this somewhat differently, have Josh writing a letter to JJ as he sees the scene in the nursery occurring, but it seems more effective to me this way; it took on a direction of its own, as fics are wont to do. I really like this one, so please let me know if you do, too!

The song is "All Through The Night," a traditional hymn/lullaby.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

To My JJ,

You probably think this is a present for Sarah, and it is, in a way, but it's more for you. Sweetie, she's perfect, and you'll be an absolutely wonderful father. Don't worry.

I came across this when CJ and I were looking through clips for the movie at your Bar Mitzvah. I haven't watched it since. I couldn't then, and I can't now. But I kept it for you. Sam took it; neither of us knew he was there at the time, and it ended up on a tape with lots of other things. So if you ever get nervous, or feel lost, because you're worried about not having grown up with your father around, watch this. I know it's been hard on you, baby, but he loved you, so much. He really did.

I love you, too.

_Mom_

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

"**Oohhh, quiet down, little one. You must have your father's energy." **

His mother looked over at him then, his father, lying in his hospital bed, his body wasted, its energy drained by sickness. And still, he managed a grin for her.

"**Hey, hey, little man. What have I told you about bothering your mother? Only five times a day. Any more than that, and you're toast."**

"**Josh."**

"**What?"**

"**Don't teach him these things."**

"**Well, I have to, while I have the chance. Donna, don't. Don't cry."**

"**How can you say something like that and not- oof!"**

"**He kick again?"**

"**Yeah."**

"**Come here."**

"**Josh, I…"**

"**Just come over here."**

His mother made her way ponderously over to the bed, and sat. His father took her hand, looked at her with his brown eyes full of love.

"**Let's try something, here."**

And with that, he began to sing, in a soft, yet surprisingly strong voice made husky with emotion.

**Sleep my child and peace attend thee,  
All through the night  
Guardian angels God will send thee,  
All through the night  
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,  
Hill and dale in slumber sleeping  
I my loved ones' watch am keeping,  
All through the night**

**Angels watching, e'er around thee,  
All through the night  
Midnight slumber close surround thee,  
All through the night  
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,  
Hill and dale in slumber sleeping  
I my loved ones' watch am keeping,  
All through the night**

"**Josh?"**

His mother spoke with a voice thick with tears, and his father answered her.

"**My sister used to sing it to me. Did it work?"**

"**Yes, Joshua, it worked."**

His mother covered his father's face with kisses, and the movie ended.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"_Waaaaaahhhhhh!"_

_The man stumbles groggily into the nursery, in boxers and a t-shirt, his hair sticking up every which way, struggling to keep his eyes open. _

"_Sarah, Sarah, baby, shhhhh. Daddy's here, Daddy's here, sweetie." _

_He picks up the child, cradles her against his chest. "What is it, sweetheart, huh?"_

_The man continues on like this, trying bottles, pacifiers, walking, rocking, checking her diaper. He rubs his hand through his hair in desperation. "Okay, okay, what now?" He pauses, thinking. "It can't hurt," he mutters to himself, taking a deep breath. _

_He begins to sing. He sings the words his father sang, sings the words he learned from repeated viewings of an old home movie, sings the words he stubbornly refused to look up, because he wanted to learn this lesson from his father. His hands grip the edges of the crib as he sings, and before he knows it, when he opens his eyes, the baby is asleep._

"_Huh. I guess it does work."_

"_Talking to yourself there, champ?"_

_He turns, smiles sleepily when he sees his wife framed in the doorway. "Hey, Becc. Yeah, I guess I was."_

"_I heard you singing. She finally nod off?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_Where'd you learn to do that?"_

_He smiles, and finally, finally, feels at peace. "My father taught me."_


End file.
